A Glitch In The System
by ThoseWereTheDays
Summary: Standing on the battlefront of the Clone Wars, one trooper in particular has a startling epiphany.


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Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or anything Star Wars related._**

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"A Glitch In The System"

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He stared up at the clouds covering the sky above him. They seemed unusually dark this day. As a light rain began to fall he noticed these clouds matched the darkness he felt in his heart, for this day was a dark day indeed. It was a day he would never forget...a day that would haunt him until the end of his time.

He knew for as long as he lived he would never forget. How could he?

So many friends and acquaintances had died right before his eyes. Men he knew, men he trusted...men that followed him into battle and perished under his command. Most of them he had grown up with -- others he hadn't known for as long -- but he still mourned all of their deaths equally. They had stood by his side and sacrificed their lives for their beloved Republic. Now they were nothing more than a mere memory to the world.

Unlike him, they were all sent to their early graves. Their time had come far sooner than it should have. He was almost disgusted with himself for living while so many of his soldiers had fallen under his leadership.

After taking in a deep breath he finally lowered his eyes back to the blood stained battlefield he stood in the midst of, once more taking in the devastating sight surrounding him. Those of his men left standing looked exhausted -- the strain of the previous hours evident among their tired faces. As he surveyed the area, he realized just how few there really were left...

Most were on the ground, their lives stolen from them. Those that had managed to survive the attacks were now tending to the injured and he could tell just by the sight of their wounds that a large portion of them would not make it through the night. They came out on top as the victors, but in doing so they had paid a great price.

"Sir, you're wounded," a voice spoke behind him, pulling him from his thoughts and bringing him back to reality.

He turned to face one of his fellow soldiers and oldest friends. Staring into the dirtied helmet that looked identical to his own, he couldn't help but feel thankful to see that at least one of his friends had survived.

"What?" he asked. His friend gestured towards the blood running down his arm and he glanced down at it, having not noticed he was injured until now. "I will be fine -- tend to the others."

"Our numbers are too few to move everybody, sir," the other soldier decided to let the matter of his injury go for the time being. "What are your orders?"

"We don't leave anybody behind," was his blunt response.

The soldier hesitated before he spoke again. "We have one other situation..."

He followed his friends' gaze as he directed his attention to a crowd of soldiers standing in a circle a few yards away.

He already knew why the men had gathered there. He already knew whose body was sprawled out before their feet -- the once brightly burning flame of his life now extinguished. He knew whom the group of men were grieving over, for he was no ordinary warrior. He was a Jedi Knight. He was their commander and he had been struck down in the heat of battle.

They were now troopers without a leader. It wouldn't take long for a replacement to be assigned to their regimen, but he knew it would never be the same. They had triumphed this day, but the brave and selfless Jedi was no more. He also knew that as a result of the Knights untimely death, it was he who was left as the sole leader of the remaining soldiers and it was up to him to get them to safety. However, he had no clue as to what they would do next…

They were lost.

Their commander was dead -- their numbers dwindling more and more with each passing day. They were an army that had sworn to protect their people, but they found themselves being brutally wiped out by forces they were hardly able to reckon with in the process.

He knew he shouldn't be thinking these thought.

He wasn't supposed to have these feelings – it wasn't in his programming.

That was when he finally realized it…he was different.

He cared.

He had formed attachments -- and in doing so – had formed a soul within the shell of the white armor he wore. He was an individual.

He was not like the rest of his men.

He was more than just a soldier destined to spend his entire life serving in a war he didn't even understand.

Clearly, there had been a glitch in the system when he had been created…

_**Fin**_

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